Thirty Days of Johnlock
by Gwen Lanturn
Summary: This is a 30 day challenge for thirty one shots; the pairing is Johnlock. Link is in the first story. Each chapter is a one shot. Rated T for the a few of the chapters. Enjoy! -"What are you doing?" "I'm holding your hand." he said without looking up. The hand fit in his perfectly, even with the odd way he was holding it; he like the way it looked in his own.
1. Chapter 1

LINK: journal/OTP-30-Theme-Challenge-316178206  
Pairing: John x Sherlock

Holding Hands

It was a normal day, which meant it was a boring day at 221B Baker Street. John was attempting write his out his blog while Sherlock was trying to deduce where a crack in the wall had come from (because obviously neither he nor John had put it there.) Holmes glared at it with malice, unable to figure out it's origin and still too stubborn to give up the lame little mystery. John, try as he might, could not produce a single word on to his computer screen. Nothing interesting had happened today, so what was there to write about?

The two flat mates seemed reluctant to give into such a dull evening, however only Sherlock continued his on going investigation of the Crack from Hell, as he had named it. Watson however retired to watching his friend's ridiculous evaluation of the wall. The consulting detective kept ducking and turning about, making the doctor feel slightly dizzy. Honestly was a crack in the wall that interesting?

"Mrs. Hudson did that. There was a bug; she panicked and kicked the wall. She packed quite a wallop."

"Why would you do that?" Sherlock blurted out standing up suddenly, looking upset. He pointed an angry finger towards John and began stalking toward him.  
"I had nothing better to do and you solved my case for me!"

"A case?" John said looking annoyed and bewildered "Your kidding right? It is just a crack! Besides you were making me nauseous with all of your pacing around."

Instead of returning to the wall, Sherlock stood in the area behind John and glanced over his shoulder and began silently deducing things about his roommate's morning, which he knew annoyed him to no end. The doctor however wasn't going to let Sherlock get the better of him and decided to focus in on something else. The something else that caught his eye just happened to be his flat mate's hands. They were supporting Sherlock as he leaned on the desk. Pale and small for a man's hands, in made John chuckle.

Caught off guard by John's rumbling laughter the consulting detective shifted oddly following the doctor's gaze. What on earth was so funny about his hands? His face flushed slightly as he glared at his friend.

"What?" he asked confused.

"Your hands" John said still giggling, "they're so tiny" Sherlock gave him a look that stated just how crazy he thought John was, which was saying something when you lived with someone like Sherlock. John quieted his laughter but a smirk still stayed on his face. Not only had he succeeded in annoying his friend but he also got the tall man to blush, something that was rare to see on his face. Of course he could've let the situation go and let Sherlock continue to burn holes into his head with his eyes but John felt he didn't disserve that treatment, not just yet at least. Carefully he put his own hand on top of Sherlock's and rubbed gentile circles on the knuckles. He could feel Sherlock stiffen as he entwined their fingers, his only slightly more tanned than his friend's.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm holding your hand." he said without looking up. The hand fit in his perfectly, even with the odd way he was holding it; he like the way it looked in his own. It was radiating a lot of heat, John realized, too much to be healthy.

"Sherlock, are you ok-" he stopped suddenly and started giggling again. Sherlock's entire face from his neck to his hairline was red. Sent one more glare at his roommate; he went off to pout in his chair a few feet away. John didn't think he could stop laughing, he turned back to his blog and typed out his title for the days entry. **My Roommate Is Adorable.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Cuddling Somewhere**

About a week ago the heating in Sherlock's house went haywire. It didn't stop working completely, thank goodness, but it did stop in the one place it seemed to matter most, which at the moment was his bedroom. The winter and spring seemed to be at war with each other going between the temperatures of mildly chilly and freezing. He couldn't sleep with his skin constantly chilled and covered with goose bumps.

He could go to John's room, which had heat, but it also had John, which was a problem. However slowly Sherlock's doubts were overshadowed by his need for warmth and rest; he began to stumble down the hall to his friend's bedroom.

It was significantly hotter in here, the consulting detective realized, as he slipped in shutting the door silently behind him. He wasn't entirely sure if his face was so red that he was overheating or if the heat in this room was just as effective, probably both. The doctor appeared to be asleep with his back to Sherlock; the taller man tip toed over to the bed and gently laid down on it, because he absolutely would not sleep on the floor. He decided that he could rouse himself early and spare John and himself the awkwardness of having to share a bed.

He turned to face the sleeping male, who's back was still the only thing to gaze at. John Watson smelled amazing, Sherlock deduced embarrassed. He snuggled closer to his unaware friend and gingerly wrapped an arm around him. It must take an earthquake to wake John up he decided as he cuddled closer inhaling the other man's cologne. Sherlock settled into a peaceful slumber, completely unaware that Watson was awake the entire time.

Of course John had awoken when he heard the door shut, he had been in the military, which meant he had to be constantly alert. He knew it was Sherlock the moment he heard a the signature sigh of relief he gave off when doing something sneaky. He decided that if he pretended to be asleep maybe Holmes would leave him alone, after all, what the hell could he want at eleven p.m? He felt Holmes slip into bed next to him and take a deep breath in, not subtly at all. He stiffened as he was pulled closer by Sherlock's arms and he felt a head pressed into his shoulder blades. John blushed faintly but smirked, Sherlock was cuddling him. In the morning they would make no mention of this, but for the moment he decided to make the most of it. He shifted slowly and tangled his limbs around the detective's body, then drifted into a peaceful slumber, making sure that Sherlock would be stuck in his embrace until woke up the next morning.

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Author's Note: I'm sorry, a lot of these stories are going to be super short, fluffy, and stupid.


	3. Chapter 3

** Gaming**

It was past midnight, and John was using his computer for anything but blogging. No, he wasn't wanking, he was playing computer games. This one was a horror game called Slender. It was all the rage last year, so he decided to play, what was in his opinion, a silly little game. He regretted calling it silly now as he sat in his chair shaking in fear and trying to swallow his squeals of fright, he would hate to wake up his flat mate. Sherlock would probably call the game child's play and beat it in moments.

Luck was not on his side that night, as soon as he got the first 'note' he got the familiar tingles down his spine telling him that the pale slender man was watching him. He gave a shout when he felt someone tap his shoulder, but relaxed when he heard a light hearted chuckle. Sherlock was awake, for whatever reason, and saw his roommate up at that awkward hour, playing what he deduced was a horror game. He found it funny the way his friend got so easily afraid at something like a horror game, when they had both been in much more scary real life situations. He told the doctor to move over and he squeezed into the chair, it was quite cozy being this close to the other man.

"Are you going to play?" he asked John who looked stunned, his cheeks lit up with a faint shade of rose. He coughed and restarted the terrible game. He felt braver with Sherlock beside him; maybe that's why he was never scared on cases. Around the time the he found the fourth note the pale slendy jerk snuck up on him, and he would have been more scared if he hadn't felt Sherlock flinch. The consulting detective gave a small squeak and buried his face in his hands. John snorted at his earlier assumption that Sherlock would mock him, when clearly he was no better than himself. Gently he pried Sherlock's hands from his face and held them in his own smiling at Sherlock to reassure him.  
**  
**"Come on," He said shutting the computer down, "Let's go to sleep"

"Yeah." He replied shakily. John smirked and spoke his mind quickly before walking off to his room leaving behind a flustered Sherlock.

"You can always come sleep with me if your scared."

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Author's Note: I feel like this is really OOC, and I just want to apologize for that. Also I think this might be an artist challenge, but I don't care; I'm going to finish it. The next chapter is the date chapter! ^-^


	4. Chapter 4

**On a Date.**

"Sherlock, when I said let's go out, this isn't what I meant." John stated angrily.

"Then what did you mean?" Sometimes John wished Sherlock would take the hint, wasn't he supposed to be a genius detective of sorts? They were currently walking around a book store. Sherlock would pick up a book, skim through the pages and move on in a matter of seconds. John sighed irritated, and blushing, he knew he would have to spell it out for Sherlock.

"I meant like a..." he trailed off, a lump seemed to have formed in his throat with a record time of three seconds. "Like a date." he muttered the last part so softly he almost thought Sherlock didn't hear him. The consulting detective did spare him a glance before turning back to his current book. His icy blue eyes scanned the words slightly faster, and then he threw it over his shoulder like he did with the rest of the books. John, also continued what he had been doing the entire 'date', picking up the books Sherlock dubbed as useless and placing them back on the shelf.

"Good, so that is what you meant." Sherlock said in monotone. John stopped and stared at him in surprise, stared was actually a light term, he actually left his mouth slightly ajar as he gave Sherlock the death stare.

"So this is your idea of a date?" He whispered frantically, he was starting to really regret this entire adventure. He would hate to mess up his relationship with his best friend just because he thought they could be more. The brunette man turned towards Watson, cautiously as he continued his short rant. "Walking around a book store, no talking, not even reading!"

"What's there to talk about?" the tall man said standing in front of John gazing down at him. "We're best friends, you already know nearly everything about me. I thought coming here would be something we could both enjoy. I'm sorry that you are not enjoying this date" he paused and added slowly "I've never been on a date before." If John ever felt like the bad guy it would have to be now. He should have known that Sherlock wasn't used to this sort of stuff, he was married to his work after all. He thought about calling off the entire thing but then got a much better idea.

"I'm sorry, I should've known better" He noticed Sherlock was starting to look a little disappointed. He grabbed his hand and started walking toward the built in café. "Let's go get a coffee and you can deduce how terrible our the barista's life has been." Sherlock smiled and followed, happily beginning his deduction of the boring person behind the counter as he stood close to John. He had hoped it would be a great first date.

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Author's Note: I feel the need to explain myself; it's a really bad habit. I've never gone on a date before, I have no idea if I did this right. I also took note that there is a lot of blushing in these fanfics, I wonder what will happen when Sherlock and John actually smooch.


	5. Chapter 5

**Kissing**

"Kiss me, John" The shorter man had to pause to make sure he had heard correctly. Sherlock stared him down, burning holes into his soul with his cold gaze. He didn't let any emotion show on his handsome face which caused John a moment of uncertainty. There had to be a point to this odd tension filled situation. Sherlock walked up to John clutching him desperately by the collar of his shirt, like he was begging.

"Kiss. Me." he demanded sharply.

"What?! Why?!" John said quickly removing himself from the accessible position, he wouldn't be kissing anyone until he knew what this was about. Sherlock was still trying to keep up his cool façade, the mask that always said, 'This is so obvious to me; why is everyone else so stupid?' However it was slipping, there was a small hint of panic that glimmered upon his handsome features, but John couldn't see it, he was to busy trying to wrap his head around the idea of kissing Sherlock Holmes.

"I deleted it, John. All of it." He said trying to get close to the doctor again, who was playing a very good game of hard to get. "The case we were working on last week," he continued, as John nodded in comprehension, "it was too much, I needed more space in my head, so I deleted it." His tone was still serious, and John was still not catching on. It was John's turn to catch the detective and hold him in place whilst he interrogated him.

"Sherlock, what did you delete?" The man hung his head like a young boy would when he was ashamed of something. Then he rolled it back on his shoulders still trying to hold on to his aura of control.

"Romance. Everything but the basic definitions." The doctor was processing the information carefully. He knew that Sherlock not knowing things like the earth revolving around the sun wouldn't affect him deeply, but he wasn't sure if it was the same for romance. What if Sherlock decided that one day he wanted a normal life, farfetched as the idea was, with a partner and a family? Kissing would be a necessity.

He gave the silent genius a final look over, trying to see what was going on in his brilliant head. He could find nothing but beautiful sky blue eyes staring back at him. Looking over his flat mates features his did notice how alluring Sherlock was, with his flawless skin and high cheek bones, he looked almost other worldly. John scolded himself for over thinking things for too long, after all it was just a kiss. He sucked in a quick breath and tried to calm his jittering heart as he leaned in. Softly and chastely his lips brushed along the pink mouth of the detective. He felt the small shocks that racked his body as he stayed like that for just a second longer, only a second he promised himself. He wanted to grin like a mad man when Sherlock hesitantly pressed back, but that seemed to be what brought him to his senses, and he quickly came down from his odd high. He pulled away and brushed some nonexistent dirt off his shoulder.

"I think that should help reboot your data or whatever" he said looking off to the far corner of the room. Sherlock's stare was still intensely penetrating his senses. All he could smell or hear or... taste was Sherlock Holmes. He made a move to walk off but his roommate seemed keen on holding onto the material of his shirt. John made eye contact once more and was confronted with what had to be the closest thing to puppy dog eyes Sherlock could create. His forehead leaned against John's, his warm breath fanning over his face. His whispered plea that was so quiet, but held urgency like the roar of a lion.

"Again?"

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Author's Note: They finally kissed! ^-^ I hope I did okay, I'm really proud of this chapter. I think this is the longest chapter/story I've written for this fic!


	6. Chapter 6

**Wearing Each Other's Clothes**

"John, does this sweater make me look large?" John scowled at his boyfriend and flatmate as he waltzed into the living room with nothing on but a sweater and briefs, his sweater and briefs. The shirt was too short on Sherlock and slightly wider around the middle because of John's build. The underwear the detective was wearing was just barely hugging onto his hips, they could fall down at any moment. John knew how cute Sherlock looked and Sherlock probably knew it too, however he did not stop sending the harsh stare Sherlock's way.

"Are you saying I'm fat?" He asked sharply, dragging his eyes up and down his partners body. He took note of how Sherlock would shift from one foot to the other and play with the rims of the sweater he was wearing. It was John's favorite sweater, and the detective knew that, he was clearly trying to- in some way or form, tease his boyfriend.

"No; I was merely asking a question." He said raising his eyebrows innocently, like he was challenging John call him out. John, not taking the bait continued to examine his boyfriend's lean frame. The consulting detective was fighting the urge nervously to squirm under the doctor's hot gaze. Eventually John did finish his study of Sherlock's enticing body and sighed, finally asking the most obvious question.

"Why are you wearing my clothes?"

"They smell like you; you smell nice; I want to be able to smell you with out using your body wash" John wore a dumb face for a few moments then stated his opinion.

"That's weird, Sherlock" he paused and got lost in his thoughts for a few more moments, "Can I wear one of your t-shirts?"

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Author's Note: I'm a bit late today, sorry, and the fic is a little short too. :(


	7. Chapter 7

**Cosplaying  
**

John glanced appreciatively at his boyfriend's costume attire. Mycroft's Halloween banquet was tonight and he had convinced Sherlock to attend. It hadn't been easy to get Sherlock to agree but John had managed. The doctor promised that they could crash the fancy party by wearing costumes and make Mycroft look ridiculous in front of his guests. John sneakily may have left out that everyone else was coming in costume as well. John himself just ripped out the classic doctor uniform he wore every time he went out to parties like this one. Sherlock had stated how fine he looked with out words but by raking his eyes up and down his partner's attractive form.

Finally coming out of the restroom the detective crossed his arms and looked to his boyfriend for information on his suit. He had little red devil horns atop his head, a matching pair of red bat wings strapped to his back, and a black tail clipped onto his pants that ended in a spade. Other than that he was in his usual clothes, he wasn't sure if his costume was as well thought out as John's was.

"Your a demon." John stated hoping he would understand, which he didn't.

"But why were there only these pieces in the bag; shouldn't their be a red body suit or something?" Sherlock's mind just couldn't comprehend why there was no matching apparel, all he knew was that the wing straps seemed to be a bit petite on him.

"No, I got it from the lingerie section, your not supposed to wear anything else with it, and if you be a good monster at the party we can try it out when we come home."


	8. Chapter 8

**Out Shopping**

"Sherlock, that was a disaster!" John yelled looking back at the store while Sherlock ignored him and continued forward carrying their groceries. They had left behind a long devastating trail of tears and had practically destroyed the little grocery store in the process. It started when the detective stated that some of the two percent milk was expired, then he started to pick up other products and point out other things, like how the pasta noodles that were supposed to be whole-wheat were actually just normal noodles, or how one of the pickle jars wasn't screwed on correctly. He threw the products on the ground, shattering the jar of pickles and crushing all of the noodles; the contents of both were scattered messily on the tiled floor. Then he got the clerk involved at the front counter, he was very animated about how displeased he was. The girl behind the counter got scared and called the manager and the manager was in a terrible mood. After Sherlock deduced that the manager had lost his wife and that his children thought he was a useless moron, the man burst into tears. John paid for the items and dragged his boyfriend out of the store, he wasn't upset about the scene they caused, it was the norm now a days. John was however, displeased that he would have to hunt down a new grocery store to shop at seeing as how he no longer trusted this one and the new grocery store would absolutely never see the face of Sherlock Holmes.

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Author's Note: It's short, sucky, and a day late. Sorry guys. :(


	9. Chapter 9

**Hanging out with friends**

John had insisted on a movie night with friends. Sherlock had no friends, so he wondered if his boyfriend meant just the two of them. Assuming that would be foolish though, what would make that so special, it was always just the two of them. Sherlock decided the best way to avoid these unknown "friends" would be to hide under the bed. It was childish and a tight squeeze, but he was a thin man and eventually got under the dusty mattress.

"Sherlock!" he heard John calling, "come on down! Mycroft and Lestrade are here!" Sherlock groaned quietly, of course it wasn't friends! He heard multiple foot steps walking into the room he was hiding in.

"Sherlock, I am in no mood for hide and seek." He heard his boyfriend growl. His deduced that the other two pairs of shoes belonged to his brother and Lestrade. He made sure to slow and silence his breathing and held perfectly still.

"Are you sure he didn't just leave?" Lestrade grumbled, his feet shifting oddly, from standing on tippy-toes to the back of his heels.

"No," he heard Mycroft speak and made a disgusted face "Sherlock's too fond of his house for that"

"Check under the bed!" he heard a distant shout from Mrs. Hudson. He made a displeasured noise as John sunk to his knees and came face to face with his partner.

"Nice try, Sherlock." he said smiling. The consulting detective grudgingly crawled out from under the bed and went along with the rest of the night. He made sure to let John know how unhappy he was and stated that he would get the doctor back one way or another.


	10. Chapter 10

**With Animal Ears**

"I feel stupid" John muttered.

"You are stupid" Sherlock replied ignoring the scowl sent his way by the shorter man. Their current case was the murder of an unfortunate furrie fanatic that had been found with his tail wrapped around his neck as a noose, and of course it was a murder and not a suicide. This lead the pair to multiple interesting characters and places such as the night club they were currently in. A club completely dedicated to furrie fun. They needed to look inconspicuous and blend in so Sherlock had arranged for them to wear fur suits which would have been fine, except the fact that Sherlock's own had been mysteriously stolen. Instead the tall detective opted for a simpler look arming himself with casual clothes, cat ears, and a collar, while John sweltered in a very large dog suit.

A few of the club's inhabitants snuck glances at the pair as they stood awkwardly in the middle of the dance floor, as if they knew the two of them shouldn't be there. A particularly cocky fox waltzed her way through the crowd and right up to Sherlock, whispering seductively in his ears. The only part John could make out was the bit where the suggestion of "ditching the dog" came up. Lifting his hot, heavy arms up he pulled Sherlock away from the vixen and into his embrace. He knew she couldn't see the glare he was sending her way through the mask so he growled as well.

He expected Sherlock to be upset with him, assuming that he had probably broke their cover, but the detective was only smiling at him. John felt his heart come to life, and began sweating more than ever. Sherlock looked somewhat sexy and adorable at the same time. The way his head was cocked cutely to the side with a knowing smile on his lips; if John was an actual dog he might've started panting.

"Good job, John" The detective murmured lowly so the people couldn't hear. The crowd of onlookers had deformed and was gone now, the doctor realized with a jolt. "I think you just convinced them that we fit in" With a blush the doctor continued to sweat in the fur suit for the rest of the night while Sherlock continued the investigation, often sending more smirks and smiles over his shoulder at his faithful dog.

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Author's Note: I'm sorry I have not been updating.


	11. Chapter 11

** Wearing kigurumis : search?q=kigurumi&amp;biw=1242&amp;bih=612&amp;source=lnms&amp;tbm=isch&amp;sa=X&amp;ei=6A_7VNr4KsKkgwS25oGIBw&amp;sqi=2&amp;ved=0CAcQ_AUoAg**

** Making out  
**

** Eating ice cream**

John held and licked at his vanilla ice cream in one hand and had his boyfriend's slender digits wrapped around the other. This was obviously a dream, based on how crazy and ridiculous it was, but the doctor was loving every minute of it. He and Sherlock were dressed in these odd hooded footie pajama like outfits, his was a pink piggy and Sherlock's was a gray kitten. They weren't talking, that was the catch, they could do what ever they wanted in the dream but they couldn't talk. John and Sherlock had both already tried and failed to speak, every time they tried no sound would come out. He took another lick at his dripping ice cream cone accidently getting a bit of the sticky sweetness on his nose. He looked for a napkin and found a few present beside him but before he wipe away the wet glob of dessert Sherlock kissed it away.

John grinned like a child in a bubble bath. He wished Sherlock was like this when he was awake. He was totally infatuated and in love with the detective and he figured that Sherlock felt similarly, but things like this, that were sweet, naughty, and absurd never happened in real life. In reality Sherlock didn't eat ice cream because it gave him headaches, he wouldn't be caught dead in his current getup, and he rarely kissed John as it was, they never had a passionate dance of lips like this before.

John gasped letting the brunette take over his mouth, teeth and tongues gently clashing in a quiet war of moans and groans. The ice cream cones were gone and had disappeared into the fog of the dream, now John's hand's only held fistfuls of Sherlock's dark curly hair. He focused on how his partner tasted, and how he felt up against his body; he felt so complete and content. Then John felt it, the pull of reality calling him back to his lonely bed with his lover a room away.

Except when John opened his eyes he found a very red Sherlock above him, his shy lips passing over his cheek lightly. John turned his head fast so their lips locked, he felt the detective jolt in surprise, the movement shaking the bed. John smirking against the stunned man's still captured mouth, he had been caught red handed. He decided that he'd take this over a hundred of his weird dreams.

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**Author's Note: I know I've missed a lot of days, and I had no idea what to do for the next couple themes, so I got the bright idea to combine them!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Gender Swapped**

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**Dedicated to my friend. I love you and I want you to be happy, but not at this price.**

* * *

"Why?" Joan asked angrily choking as hot tears streamed down her face, her throat burning. She thought Sherlock was satisfied with her life; that solving cases satisfied the itch, or at the very least distracted her. Joan felt like such a stupid little girl for assuming such things, she had even hoped that maybe Sherlock could've loved her; that she would've been the reason the dark beauty would fight the urge and resist the habit. Joan had been so very wrong, and now one overdose later she was bawling her eyes out for her fallen friend, the sleeping beauty.

Her short sandy blond hair was a mess and she was an even bigger disaster without Sherlock. Mycroft tried to get her out of the room, but she wouldn't leave the detective's side. Joan's hands would always be brushing and stroking the woman's inky dark hair or entwined with her cold fingers. They looked so small in the big white room. She wished she could turn back time and save her; that she could make Sherlock see that there was more to life then just the thrills, excitement, and highs but it was to late. In a fairytale true love's kiss would break the spell, but even if those children's tales were true Joan new she couldn't wake her princess because Sherlock never knew, and now would never know, how much she had meant to her.


	13. Chapter 13

**In a Different Clothing Style**

Building up the disguise closet had been on Sherlock's and John's to-do list for ages, but they had been avoiding it case after case. Finally after months of avoiding the problem they finally went out of their way to stock up on their outfits. Surprisingly John was the odd one out this time, standing awkwardly in front of a rack while Sherlock ran around the store picking up various and random articles of clothing. After a time the detective realized that he was the only one taking part in the 'fun.' He handed John something black that looked only just his size, and shoved the shorter male into the dressing room and continued into his own to try on his clothes.

He emerged a quick three minutes later, in a white graphic T-shirt with a small green skull on it. His pants were baggy and hugging his hips, flashing the gray boxers he was wearing, and somewhere beneath all of the crumpled denim was a pair of sneakers. He glanced at a close by mirror and noticed his somewhat younger looking appearance, he didn't care for it as much as he pleased, perfering more to look his age.

He suddenly heard the sound of cussing emanating from John's changing stall and banging noises, which he assumed was his companion falling over in some form of struggle. After ten more minutes of the vulgar noises John emerged from the changing coffin. He was wrapped in a long leather jacket and a dark button up shirt. His jeans were also black and so tight Sherlock could see the shape of his partner's legs and other attractive _things_. The pants were obviously too small for John and were probably cutting off the circulation to John's _other things_.

Sherlock chuckled and kissed John on the nose, they both looked awful. To adults dressed in teenage punk clothes, smooching in front of the department store changing rooms. The surrounding uncomfortable customers assumed it was some sort of pre- bedroom kink and so did the manger of the shop apparently. She said she would pay for all the clothes they were wearing if the two of them "got a room" so to speak. Sherlock agreed, as he and John walked down the street. With the jeans John was wearing the detective also got a fine view of his rear. Yes, these delinquent clothes would with out a doubt be the geniuses new kink.

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**Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update. Big news though, I'm sorry to say that I'm going to let this be the final chapter. I'm just not into it anymore and I don't want to drag out the next several chapters. I may come back to it someday, but until that day comes, this is a complete collection. Thank you for all your support and comments and I truly hope you can forgive me for this final decision.**


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